


Carry On

by raikotoho



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Fall of Beacon (RWBY), Fluff, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28032315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raikotoho/pseuds/raikotoho
Summary: Yang woke up in her bed, in her room, in Patch, which was kind of weird because she didn’t remember leaving Beacon. She also woke up missing her right arm, which went right past weird and straight into words-she-wasn’t-supposed-to-say-in-front-of-Ruby territory.After the Fall of Beacon, Yang and Weiss support each other in recovery (and are definitely coping just fine themselves).
Relationships: Weiss Schnee & Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Carry On

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the Freezerburn zine, [A Harmony of Ice and Fire](https://freezerburnzine.tumblr.com/). Can be read as gen or pre-ship.

Yang woke up in her bed, in her room, in Patch, which was kind of weird because she didn’t remember leaving Beacon. She also woke up missing her right arm, which went right past weird and straight into words-she-wasn’t-supposed-to-say-in-front-of-Ruby territory.

Yang said them anyway, startling the figure in the chair to her left.

“Yang!” Weiss said, popping immediately out of her seat. “You’re awake! How do you feel?”

“Weiss?” Yang asked, bewildered. Was she dreaming? When her eyes landed on the Cinnamon Celia-print pajama pants her teammate was wearing, she gratefully decided that the answer was yes.

“Disorientation, trouble focusing,” Weiss said to herself. “Don’t move, I’ll get your father.” She hurried from the room.

Yang, of course, immediately pried herself upright. It was harder than she’d expected it to be. She felt the way most people looked after a spar with Nora, and wondered if she should maybe listen to Weiss for once. But then she saw who was in the other bed, and all thoughts of staying put vanished.

“Ruby!” Yang lurched from the bed. Her legs failed, and a grab for Weiss’ chair missed entirely. Their old rug didn’t do much for the impact when her knees slammed to the floor, and as Weiss and her dad rushed through the door with worried exclamations, Yang stared at the bandages on the remains of her arm and started to realize that none of it was a dream after all.

Reality was a lot to process, and it didn’t exactly help to hear what had happened _after_ she’d passed out. Yang sat at the kitchen table, scratching Zwei behind the ears and ignoring the bowl of oatmeal in front of her. Ruby, Pyrrha, Blake, closing down Beacon. The world had changed so much.

“You should eat.”

And, of course, there was Weiss. Who had apparently been ordered to go back to Atlas and had stowed away on the evac ship to Patch instead. It was definitely a bold way to kick off her teenage rebellion.

“I can find something else if you don’t want oatmeal,” the rebel in question suggested.

“It’s fine,” Yang said, and smirked. “I mean, it’s no Cinnamon Celia, but…”

Weiss turned red. “They were the only ones that fit,” she muttered.

Yang snorted. Ruby had been very upset to outgrow those pants a full ten months ago. But she decided to leave Weiss’ dignity alone, reaching for her spoon—and again, with her left hand. That was going to take some getting used to.

While she ate, Zwei turned his attention to Weiss, who took over spoiling him without reservation. Watching them put a smile on Yang’s face. It would have been hard to imagine her teammate looking so openly adoring after their first (or second, or fourth) meeting.

An itch twanged up her right arm. Yang absently reached to scratch it and jumped when her fingers met the table instead.

Weiss looked up from the corgi. “Yang?”

Yang shook her head. “It’s nothing,” she said. Just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Well, be sure to inform me if there’s anything you need,” Weiss said.

“Thanks,” Yang said.

After a few days, though, she was starting to get tired of that line. Yeah, sure, there were some things she just couldn’t do with one hand. But Yang was going to have to learn to tie her shoes someday, damn it, and that day wasn’t going to be anytime soon if Weiss kept hovering.

“There’s no need to push yourself,” Weiss countered. “You’ve been through a lot, it’s alright to take some time to adjust.”

“Weiss, if you think this is me pushing myself I have to wonder where you’ve been all year,” Yang said. She ignored the irritating prickle of her missing arm and stepped on one end of the shoelace so she could yank the knot tight.

“It’s a different kind of challenge,” Weiss said.

Yang formed a loop and pressed it down, contorting her fingers to reach for the other lace. “What, are you worried about me?” she teased.

“Of course I am!”

Yang glanced at her and fumbled the loop, but managed to keep it from unraveling. “Well, you don’t need to be.” She got it on the second try and propped the grungy white sneaker up on her knee. “See? Told you I could _hand_ -le it,” she said with a wink.

“Ugh, Yang!” Weiss rolled her eyes, flushing angrily. “How can you even joke about this?”

“It’s not _that_ big a deal,” Yang shrugged. She couldn’t resist tacking on, “Honestly, it’s a weight off my shoulder.”

Weiss wasn’t amused. But she let Yang tie the other shoe on her own, which counted as a win. More important battles, on the other—nah, too easy.

Rephrase: Yang was still on enforced break from training, and no amount of puns could convince anyone otherwise. It was hard, just sunbathing while Weiss drilled glyphs for hours on end.

“Talk about pushing yourself,” Yang grumbled. “Are you sure _I’m_ the one who needs rest?”

“I still have Aura,” Weiss gasped, “I can keep going.”

Yang frowned. “Seriously, what are you trying to prove?”

Weiss tilted her elbow, blade wobbling. “I’m. Fine.”

“Weiss, come on,” Yang said. “You don’t need to do this. You’re the only one of us who walked out of Beacon—”

“Because I couldn’t protect you!” Weiss exploded, breaking her stance and jabbing Myrtenaster into the dirt. “You, Blake, or Ruby—I let all of you go alone and you all got hurt because _I_ wasn’t there!”

For a moment, Yang was speechless. She had no idea that Weiss had been blaming herself for Yang’s own stupid temper.

“You’re here now,” she said, and she would have made sure Weiss knew how much more that was worth. But movement from behind her teammate stole her attention, and what came out instead was, “What the hell is that?”

Weiss turned and glared at the white hand bursting from the ground like a horror movie prop. “A summon,” she said, which didn’t explain much, “or part of one, anyway. No matter how much I practice, I still haven’t managed more than a single limb!” She yanked her sword out of the ground, making the arm and the glyph beneath it stutter and vanish.

“Well,” Yang said gamely, “at least you managed one.”

“Yes, we’re a matched set,” Weiss said acidly, before immediately looking horrified. “I didn’t mean that!”

Yang was too busy having an epiphany to be offended. Weiss’ horror shifted to suspicion. “What are you planning, Xiao Long?”

“Listen,” Yang began, “you’ve got an arm with no body…”

Weiss’ blue eyes widened. “Tell me you’re not serious.”

But despite her complaints, they found themselves face-to-face in the training yard as the setting sun turned the dirt pink. Weiss’ left hand hovered just where Yang’s right arm ended, overlapping impossibly with its phantom irritation.

“This is ridiculous,” Weiss said for probably the third time as the glyph formed and began to rotate slowly. “Even if the summoning _does_ succeed, I don’t know how you expect to—”

The arm came shooting out at a speed that made Weiss yelp as she just barely dodged getting punched in the face. It was covered shoulder to fingertip in glowing white plate, as wide as Yang’s torso and long enough for armored knuckles to dig into the ground.

“Uh,” Yang said. “Okay.” Maybe the extra reach would be useful. She rolled her shoulder and was surprised by the arm’s weightlessness. Less appealing was the way it held stiff, joints locked. “How do I control it?”

“Give me a moment,” Weiss said from somewhere behind her. “Hold still.”

Yang waited as Weiss’ hand settled on her bicep. The summoned arm shrank, pauldron retreating back into the glyph until it looked almost like an actual replacement—maybe even like a gauntlet over an arm that didn’t need replacing at all.

“Alright,” Weiss said, voice tight. “You won’t be going into combat with this, but…bend your elbow.”

Yang was staggered when the arm responded. “I—Weiss—” She carefully pressed her left hand against her armor-plated forearm. The itch vanished, and her breath caught.

“That’s the limit, I’m afraid,” Weiss said. “I can only predict so much from here.” She gently squeezed Yang’s arm before her hand fell away.

Yang cleared her throat. “Looking pretty good, though.” Better than she’d dared hope.

“Very handsome indeed,” Weiss said.

Yang blinked and turned, but Weiss’ expression was serious. Had she just imagined it?

But the corner of Weiss’ mouth was twitching, and Yang grinned in return. “Eyy,” she said, shooting a finger gun with her left hand.

Then, Weiss repeated the gesture with the summoned arm, and they both lost it. Yang wasn’t sure when the laughter turned to tears, but then Weiss’ arms wrapped around her and she realized that she didn’t care, because her shoulder was also damp and at least they were crying together.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to put this at the end so it doesn't spoil the story, but you should definitely look at it now: [Elle's collaboration art](https://elle-arts.tumblr.com/post/637325687014981632/my-full-piece-for-freezerburnzine-ive-been).


End file.
